


Tell me where it hurts, darling (I'm right here by your side)

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Hopeful Ending, M/M, episode 167 spoilers, high on the hurt low on the comfort, i have no idea what this title is I'm not usually that dramatic, rating is for minor swears and jon's emotional state, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24203359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 167!!!Jon thinks. Martin worries. They talk.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 42
Kudos: 339





	Tell me where it hurts, darling (I'm right here by your side)

_ Eye. _

_ Lonely. _

_ Web. _

The chant circled endlessly through Jon's head, a mental Russian roulette. It would be easy, so easy, to reach out, stop the spin, settle in the chamber the bullet that would end it all. But he wouldn't.

_ Eye. _

_ Lonely. _

_ Web. _

He wouldn't  _ know  _ until he looked. And he wouldn't look until Martin asked him to. He wasn't going to betray the trust of the man he loved again.

God, he hadn't meant to betray Martin's trust like that. He hadn't even realized he  _ had  _ been reading Martin's thoughts until he told him to stop.

_ Eye. _

Selfish, selfish, but Jon wanted it to be true. Martin had a place in this new world Jon had caused, and was it really so bad, to hope that place was by his side? Martin had been working at the Institute for over a decade, after all, had read more statements than any of his other assistants, seemed more attuned to the Beholding than the rest of them. And the way he pressed for answers, even when Jon couldn't give them, didn't  _ know  _ them-

Selfish.

_ Lonely. _

The less said of it, the better. It would make sense, after everything. After Peter, and all his life alone. But he desperately hoped, for Martin's sake, that that wasn't where he was destined to be.

_ Web. _

Jon didn't want to think about that one. Didn't even want to consider it. But Annabelle had come calling, and...

_ It felt good, weaving my own little web... _

_ I actually think they’re sort of cute... _

_ Whatever web these statements have caught you in, well... I’m there too. _

No.

If anything, Martin was in danger, a victim of the Web's manipulations, and Jon would do whatever it took to protect him.

And if he  _ did  _ belong with the Web...

If he  _ did... _

Well.

Jon would still trust him. He'd made that choice a long time ago.

_ Eye. _

_ Lonely. _

_ Web. _

_ God, _ he wished he could just look.

God, he couldn't believe he'd looked without asking.

It was just so  _ easy  _ to slip into Martin's thoughts, into the churning chaos of his mind. It was... calming. Watching Martin's thoughts, feeling his emotions, it was meditative,  _ beautiful. _ He'd spent much of their time in Scotland staring at Martin, watching the little twitches in his face as he read a book or wrote a poem, trying to guess at what thoughts were behind the subtle shifts of expression, and now...

Well, now it was so simple to  _ know  _ it, and it felt so right.

Martin had such a beautiful mind.

And Jon had hurt him.

He chanced a glance over at Martin now, walking beside him with his face set in grim determination.

Martin had been quiet since their rest earlier. Since Jon had slipped, and forced him to listen to the entire gruesome history of Emma Harvey and Gertrude Robinson.

God, he couldn't believe he had done that. After all that had happened, all he had done, he couldn't even manage to uphold one simple promise.  _ Don't give statements in front of Martin. _ It sounded so easy, in principle.

It sounded so easy, on paper, to not hurt the people he cared about.

It was so easy, in practice, to do so.

He always ended up hurting people.

Maybe they  _ would  _ have been better off, if he had died.

_ Of course they would have, _ a voice in his head whispered.  _ They would have been free. Melanie wouldn't have had to blind herself, Daisy and Basira wouldn't have been stuck with you. Heck, if you had been killed early enough, maybe Tim would still be alive. Maybe Sasha would be. _

_ And maybe Martin would have been lost to the Lonely, _ another, quieter voice chimed in.  _ Maybe Melanie would have gone to the Slaughter, and Daisy to the Hunt, and Basira to whatever it is that haunts her. Maybe there would have been another Archivist, who would have gotten more people killed, and the apocalypse would have continued unabated. _

There was no way to know the might-have-beens. No way to guess at the possible outcomes. The only thing Jon could know was what he would have done, if he knew they could be free before.

_ Selfish selfish selfish selfishselfishselfishselfish- _

"Jon?"

Martin's voice snapped him back to the present.

"Hm?"

"What's wrong?" Martin had turned, half-facing him as they walked. Jon kept his gaze fixed steadily on the path ahead.

"Nothing."

"Jon..." There was a warning note to Martin's voice.

"What?"

He sighed. "Look, I know you're not good at, well,  _ talking  _ about your feelings, but I can read your face like an open book. You're upset about something." He pursed his lips when he was finished, glaring at Jon.

Jon frowned. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Just tell me what's bothering you, please?"

He shrugged, a tiny movement of his shoulders. "Fine. I've just been thinking about our conversation earlier."

"Go on."

_ I wouldn't have done it, _ is what he meant to say.  _ I wouldn't have told them my death would free them, even if I knew this would be the outcome. I'm a coward, and selfish, and I want to think there's a way we can all get out of this alive, even me. _

It is what he meant to say. What came out of his mouth instead was: "Do you hate me?"

Martin stopped in his tracks.  _ "What?" _

"I-"  _ stupid stupid stupid _ "-didn't mean to- just forget I-"

"Jon!"

Jon stopped talking. Martin looked appalled.

"Where is this coming from?"

Jon shrugged again, hunching his shoulders.

"Jon, you  _ know  _ I love you."

"I-" He was surprised how faint his voice was. "I also know it's quite possible to hate and love the same person at the same time."

"Jon..." Martin took a step toward him, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. "What  _ possible  _ reason could I have to hate you?"

Jon shrugged again. Martin bit his lip.

"I don't, okay? I don't hate you, I never will."

"You should."

Martin's hand tightened on his arm. "I most certainly  _ shouldn't. _ What's brought this on?"

Jon opened and closed his mouth, soundlessly. It seemed so obvious to him, but how to put it into words?

"I've made you uncomfortable," he finally settled on. "I've read your mind, and- and made you listen to that whole statement, and-"

"A, you apologized, and B, you had no control over that," Martin interrupted. "We're in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse, Jon, things are going to get difficult occasionally."

Jon cringed. Of course.  _ Of course. _ They'd been over this earlier, it was stupid to try to bring it up again.

"Sorry."

"No, don't-" Martin let go of Jon's arm, covering his face with both hands and groaning in frustration. "Don't apologize, I'm not trying to- to shut you down, I'm trying to make you feel better!"

"Sorry," Jon said again, quietly. Martin dragged his hands down his face, giving him an exasperated look over his fingers.

"I've not made you feel better, have I?"

That brought a small smile to Jon's lips. He shook his head slightly.

"I've made you feel worse, haven't I?"

A shrug.

"Okay then." He dropped his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. "Backtrack. Why do you think I should hate you?"

It was an easy question to answer. There were so many reasons.

"I'm not human."

Martin shrugged. "Neither am I, apparently. Not if I'm feeding off one of these domains."

_ Eye Lonely Web- _

Jon pushed the thought away. "I ended the world."

_ "Elias _ ended the world. We've argued circles around this one already, you know I think you're blameless."

"If I'd just had the decency to die the first time someone tried to kill me, you'd have all been free.”

Martin froze. "So  _ that's  _ what this is about."

Among many other things.  _ "Yes, _ Martin, that's what this is about."

"You really think you should have- what, let Melanie kill you so she could have gone free? Or Basira, or Daisy?"

_ "Maybe." _ It came out belligerent, and Jon suppressed another wince.

_ "Would _ you have told them, then?" Martin pressed. "If you had known?"

"I don't know."

"Oh come on, it's a simple enough question."

"Why does it  _ matter?" _ Jon threw his hands in the air, taking a step backward. "Why do you need to know?"

_ "Maybe, _ I just want to know if my partner is suicidal!" Martin matched him for volume. "Maybe, I don't know, maybe I think that's a rather  _ important  _ thing to know about someone when you're trying to stop the apocalypse together!"

"I don't  _ know, _ Martin," Jon spat it from between clenched teeth. "I don't  _ know, _ I don't know what the right answer is, I don't know what the  _ true  _ answer is, I don't  _ know." _ His hands were curled into fists. "I don't want to  _ die, _ if that's what you're asking, but maybe I deserve to! If it could have saved  _ everyone, _ if it could have saved the  _ world, _ maybe I should have! Maybe I would have! I. Don't.  _ Know." _

"You are  _ literally  _ an Avatar of knowledge."

"That doesn't give me an all-access key to my own feelings."

"Jon-"

"What do  _ you  _ think I should've done?" he interrupted. It came out more caustic than he intended. 

Martin blinked. "I... I don't know."

"You don't  _ know? _ You're the one who's supposed to be good at sorting out his feelings,  _ Martin." _

"Look, I- I  _ want  _ to say yes, okay? I want to say you should have told them." He tossed his head back, groaning. "No, that's not- I want to  _ want  _ to say yes. I want to pretend that I'm the kind of selfless person who wouldn't put the life of  _ one man _ before the fate of the entire  _ universe." _ He lowered his head, looking back at Jon. "But I'm not, okay? I don't want that, I want you to tell me  _ of course I wouldn't have told them, Martin, that would've gotten me killed! Whatever else happened, I'm just glad I got to spend some- some-" _ his voice slipped out of its mimicry of Jon. "Some  _ bloody  _ quality time together before it all ended!" He pushed a hand back through his hair, dragging his fingers through the curls in frustration. "I'm selfish, okay? I just- I  _ am. _ And I want you to tell me that you are, too."

Silence settled, and Jon let it. He stared at the ground around their feet, watching the way Martin dug the toe of one of his trainers into the dirt as he tried to even his breathing. Then:

"Thank you."

"For what?" Martin snapped.

"For being selfish. For caring whether I live or die."

Martin sighed, arms dropping to his sides. "Of course I care, Jon."

"I'm sorry."

Martin just shook his head. "Can we just press on? This is a mess."

Jon nodded silently, and they resumed walking. Every so often Martin let out a soft huff of breath. His shoulders were tense.

"Martin?"

"What."

"What did I do wrong?"

Martin shot him a side glance. "What makes you think you did something wrong?"

Jon swallowed. "You're upset with me. And I don't know why."

"Oh." Martin fixed his gaze on the horizon. "I just feel like we're having problems communicating. And you  _ reading my mind _ without my permission doesn't help."

"I wasn't-"

"I know." Martin looked over at him, faint amusement in his eyes. "You figured this one out the old-fashioned way."

Jon nodded.

"I just-" Martin sighed. "I get that it's hard for you. I do. But I  _ do  _ want to know how you're feeling about things, and I just- I just wish you would try."

"I am trying."

"Are you?" His tone turned sad. "It feels like you just brush me off, or tell me you don't know, or just- just give me the minimum answer you think you can get away with. That's not sharing, that's hiding."

"I  _ am  _ trying, Martin," Jon insisted. "I just..." he trailed off.

"You just  _ what, _ Jon."

"I just don't know what's safe to share." He glanced over, gave Martin a sad smile. "At the moment, most of my feelings are... ominous. And I know you don't want to hear that."

"Jon..." Martin let out a slow breath. "I don't want to hear about the pain and suffering of the entire world, no. But I want you to feel comfortable sharing your  _ own  _ pain and suffering with me."

Jon couldn't meet his eyes. "I'm not entirely sure where the one ends, and the other begins."

"Oh."

"Like I said. Ominous."

Martin nodded.

They walked on in silence. After a while, Martin reached over and took his hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Jon laughed. "No." Then he sighed. "Do you think it'll help?"

Martin shrugged. "It can't hurt, can it? Might make you feel a bit better."

"I suppose."

"Jon."

Jon looked at him. His gaze was steady and serious.

"I want to help."

Jon stared at him for a moment longer.

"Alright, then," he conceded, squeezing Martin's hand. "Let's talk."


End file.
